


Pearls for Tears

by Lil_Redhead



Series: Shirbert Oneshot + Drabble Collection [13]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, I had a hunger for something soft and romantic, No Season 3 Spoilers, and some allusions to lovemaking, there's some book spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 21:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: Three times Gilbert Blythe wept in joy, because crying isn't just for sad moments.





	Pearls for Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight's episode was wonderful, but I had a hankering for some shirbert and wrote this! There aren't any season three spoilers (unless a ghost slipped them in there when I wasn't looking)! Please enjoy!
> 
> (also I wrote this very quickly and didn't have time to proofread it before I went to eat an emotional support taco!)

** _1\. Joy Cometh in the Morning_ **

In those moments when he awoke, when everything felt feathery and far away, Gilbert felt the sun on his face. His eyelids felt too heavy to open, so he lay there grounding himself to his reality - he was gravely ill in his bed. Typhoid Fever was what the doctor said when he didn’t think Gil could hear him. It felt about right. He was vaguely aware of how raw his throat was and the impossible exhaustion of all his muscles, but they were far in the back of his mind. 

In all the pain and confusion, he’d had a dream, the feverish kind that’d send any strong-willed man under pitiful delusions. And of course, the dream was about Anne. 

In the hazy fog of the dream, he remembered practically melting into his pillow under all of his sweat and pain, only for the door to swing open. It didn’t just bring with it a brush of air that cooled Gilbert’s flaming skin. It brought _Anne_. He smiled as best as he could when she stared at him from the doorway, and even tried to _shhh_ her quiet when she fell into a heap of sobs at his bedside. She’d cooled his cheeks with a damp cloth, kissed his damp forehead, and brushed the hair out of his eyes. Her hands had found his and she caressed his knuckles, whispers prayers she didn’t know he could hear. 

She told him she loved him. That’s how he knew it was a dream. Her head on his pillow beside his ear, she whisper all the things he’d wanted to hear since the way he found her shaking in the forest. Something about a _Book of Revelation. _Something about _I love you and I think I always have. _

Gilbert was nearly fully awake now - eyes still closed, sun still warming his cheeks. The haziness of his fever had cleared away like morning fog, the sweat from his brow had dried. 

Christ Almighty, somehow he lived. But with dreams like that, it made him want to lay there forever and sleep. 

Eventually Gilbert found the strength to open his eyes. When he did, a wild, ferocious feeling settled ever so softly over him. He wanted to get up, dance around the room, and sing his favorite song. Even if he could, though the Typhoid had stripped him of all of his strength, he didn’t dare wake the sleeping redhead whose head was on the bed next to his arm. Her hair was completely down, blanketing her face and tickling his hand.

A smile bloomed on his cheeks. _She’d come_.

Gilbert tried to utter her name, but no sound came out except for a small sigh. He needed to ask her if he imagined everything in his fever. He needed to know if, after all this time, she really did care. Trying his best to control shaky movements, Gilbert ran the back of his fingers along the apples of her cheek. 

Anne stirred awake immediately, looking up at Gilbert with such desperation that he doubted she’d been asleep to begin with. Even in her fear and longing, she was the picture of unearthly beauty.

“My love, you’re _alive,” _she gasped. “I’m here and I’m not leaving your side ever again.” 

Gilbert was not dreaming. This time it was not his sickness, but the knot in his throat that prevented him from speaking. The only noise he could utter was a sob that had been building up in his chest for years. It hit the air like steam on a window. There might’ve been laughter mixed with his tears, but Gilbert didn’t notice. He was too focused on Anne weeping with him, kissing everywhere she could…His forehead, his cheeks, under his jaw, the long lashes of his eyes. When she rested her forehead against his and shared his breath, Gilbert was glad the almighty hadn’t left him behind.

** _2\. Embrace the Sorrow of Life with Its Joy_ **

Gilbert’s skin hadn’t begun to cool yet when he felt a long forgotten lump catch his throat. Anne’s chest was heavy below him, and their hearts brushed against each other with each breath. Bliss had muddled his rational thought, but it made him sensitive to her hands running up his back and her legs detangling from around his. His heart raced as much as if he were experiencing a lifetime’s worth of happiness all in one moment. Overwhelmed, Gilbert buried his face into her neck and kissed the salty skin at the hollow of her throat. Anne shivered, only wrapping her arms around his neck tighter. 

The utter happiness their wedding day brought seemed like adequate compensation for all the loss they’d experienced, but to able to love Anne like this was something else entirely. He wanted her to know that she was cherished beyond her understanding. He wanted her to look in the mirror and see just how strong and breathtaking she was. He wanted to push away every cruel thing that had ever been done to her until they were too far to come back. 

To call this woman his…to hold her and feel her skin flush against his, it nearly was his undoing. Gilbert tried to swallow back the lump in his throat so he could tell her how overwhelmed he was by the loveliness of her entire existence. Without realizing it, a tear slid down his cheek and landed on her freckled skin. She pulled his face back to look at him, gray eyes widening to green when she saw the tears pooling at his jaw. With a tender smile, she wiped them away with her thumbs and brought his face to hers. The kiss was soft, and tasted of the moonlight filtering in through their new lace curtains. 

“Are you remembering sad things?” she asked quietly when she pulled back. Gilbert shook his head, rolling off of her so he could curl into her side. Immediately her arms were about him, and he returned the gesture, pulling the warmth of her embrace back to him. 

“I’m thinking of so many happy things that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel sad again.” 

Anne gave a knowing smile and began to run her fingers up and down his arm in a featherlight touch. His hair stood on end at the sweet feeling of it and he burrowed his head into his pillow. He drifted under to the sound of Anne humming a nameless melody, knowing that when he woke, she’d be right there in his arms. 

** _3\. Joy for Short_ **

Gilbert had been afraid before, but he’d never been so _terrified _for _so long. _No where was safe to think in his own house. To get to his study he’d have to walk by Bash and Marilla - poor, pale faced Marilla who just wanted to know if her daughter would live. But there wasn’t time to think. He needed to stay by Anne’s side, holding her hand and wiping away the labored sweat from her brow. 

She’d known something was wrong, but every time she turned her pale face to her husband, he’d pulled his strength together and gave her a steady look of encouragement. 

“Everything is fine, sweetheart, you’re doing great,” he told her as Anne heaved heavy breaths in between contractions.

Telling her the truth of the matter wouldn’t help the birthing at all. It’d only frighten her, confuse her with all the convoluted medical terms. In plain english it’d all amount to this - the child was taking too long, too late in the labor. The doctor from Lowbridge handled the mechanical work for him, letting him stay by her side to pretend that everything was okay. 

Right when Anne looked as if she might dissipate with exhaustion, little Joyce Blythe entered the world with deafening silence. Anne’s head fell back on her pillow and she laughed, blissfully happy to have finished the worst of it. 

Gilbert stayed with Anne as the nurses took the baby into the guest room to be cleaned. It would be there the doctor would check for a heartbeat and do what needed to be done - if anything _could _be done. If Anne noticed how stiff Gilbert’s muscles were or how dull his eyes were growing, she didn’t say anything. She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

“A baby boy?” she guessed tiredly. 

“No,” Gilbert choked. “A daughter.” 

“How long until we get to see her?” 

Gilbert bent his head and pressed a kiss to her damp hair. 

“Soon, my love.” 

“Not soon enough!” Anne laughed with an exhausted chuckle. “I can’t wait to count all of her wee toes and all ten of her fingers! Do you suppose she’ll have your curly, brown hair?” 

It was too much. He still didn’t hear Joy crying in the other room. Gilbert rose from the side of the bed, crossed to the window where sunlight was pouring in through the pane, and prayed. The longer the seconds stretched, the harder Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut and begged for a sound he’d heard dozens of times in children that weren’t his. But just this once…

Then, a sharp, babyish shriek erupted from the other side of the walk and Gilbert doubled over with a gasp. 

“Listen to the lungs on her!” Anne laughed. Her eyes fell on him, and she frowned. “Gilbert?” 

Gilbert was a long time in turning around. When he did, Anne found his face soaked with tears, but he covered it with his hands with a relieved moan. He wiped away his tears with the back of his sweat-damp sleeve, about to say something when the doctor came in the doorway. Squalling away in his arms was tiny Joyce, the most beautiful sight Gilbert had ever seen with her full head of red hair and two tiny freckles on her nose. 

“Dr. Blythe, come meet your daughter.” 

Gilbert rushed forward to take the fresh, red baby from the relieved doctor. His eyes immediately blurred when he looked down to find his own hazel eyes and Anne’s perfect nose. Joy’s fussing slowed until the poor, tired thing had fallen asleep. Gilbert’s heart jolted in his chest, but the doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly. 

“She’s alright, Gilbert. There’s no more passage perilous.” 

The only sight more lovely than that of his daughter was that of Anne holding her. Anne was the picture of natural motherhood, with her hair sticking to the side of her face and her lips pressed to Joy’s warm forehead. 

It was in that moment that Gilbert vowed to always be thankful for the moments of life that brought him tears, even the ones that stripped him of the air from his lungs or the laughter from his lips. There would be more to come, he knew. But it was worth it for moments like this where life could be celebrated and love could be born. 


End file.
